


Whatever This Is

by combefemme



Series: That Reincarnation AU [1]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, the david/jack/katherine is super minor and only in the background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 12:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12410280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combefemme/pseuds/combefemme
Summary: The memories came when Albert turned 16. At least, he’s pretty sure they’re memories. They could just be dreams or hallucinations but they seem too real for that. He remembers the feeling of running through the streets of New York, a stack of papers under his arm. He remembers the sound of 10,000 kids all shouting and chanting together in Newsie Square.Mostly, he remembers a boy with bright blue eyes and a mop of curly hair and an ever-unlit cigar between his teeth.





	Whatever This Is

**Author's Note:**

> So, I definitely don't know Newsies well enough to be writing fic about it but I've watched it literally every day since I found it on Netflix a week and a half ago and there just isn't enough Albert/Race fic in the world so I wrote my own.
> 
> Here's whatever this is.

The memories came when Albert turned 16. At least, he’s pretty sure they’re memories. They could just be dreams or hallucinations but they seem too real for that. He remembers the feeling of running through the streets of New York, a stack of papers under his arm. He remembers the sound of 10,000 kids all shouting and chanting together in Newsie Square.

Mostly, he remembers a boy with bright blue eyes and a mop of curly hair and an ever-unlit cigar between his teeth.

It’s all too vivid to be anything but memories.

Of course, that doesn’t make any sense either. It’s 2017, not 1899, and Albert’s never had so much as a paper route, nevermind gone on strike for the rights of newsboys across New York City. 

Maybe he’s just losing his shit.

XxXx

Albert wakes up on his first day of college classes to an empty bed across from him. His roommate, whoever he is, still hasn’t moved in.

Albert has been here for almost a week and everyday he expects his roommate to show up. He’s watched campus go from quiet and deserted to busy and full of life but still that bed remains empty.

Not that Albert minds, of course. He’s spent his whole life getting bounced between group homes and foster homes. Very rarely has he ever had a bedroom to himself and he’s going to enjoy it while it lasts.

He’s an early riser, always has been, and he makes it to the cafeteria in time to sit down to a hot plate of breakfast. Instead, he puts a blueberry muffin on his meal plan and heads back outside.

He leans against the railing of the little patio that overlooks the quad and peels the paper off his muffin. He’s had plenty of time to explore campus and find out where all his classes are so he’s in no rush to get moving. He’s two-and-a-half bites into his muffin and reaching up to adjust his signature backwards snapback when he hears voices behind him.

“Specs, wait!” a voice Albert swears he’s heard before calls out, accompanied by the sound of footsteps on pavement.

“Pick up the pace, Romeo!” another familiar voice calls back. “Don’t wanna be late for our first class.”

Something in Albert is screaming at him to turn around and get eyes on the sources of those voices – he can already see a pair of faces swimming up before his vision – but he’s rooted to the spot; paralyzed by something akin to terror.

After a second the voices and footsteps recede and Albert is able to move again. He still doesn’t look back, even though there’s nothing there anymore. Instead he sets off for his first class at a brisk pace.

XxXx

He’s the first one to get to the lecture hall and, still shaken, takes a seat near the back.

He’s had these names and faces swimming around in his head for over two years – sometimes he thinks he knows them better than his own – but they’ve never entered the real world before.

Albert’s always thought of them as memories because he doesn’t know what else to call them. Delusions?

Maybe he’d just imagined it all – the voices, the footsteps, the names – but he knows that’s not true. It had all been as real as the hat on his head and the muffin in his mouth.

The lecture hall has filled up while he wasn’t paying attention and he’s snapped back to reality by his professor welcoming the class to a new semester. His mind doesn’t stop wandering after that and he’s got plenty to be distracted about but his train of thought comes to a screeching halt when a girl near the front raises her hand and asks a question in a voice he knows he’s heard before.

He can’t see her face from here but he can see her mass of strawberry blonde waves, just a shade or two lighter than his own.

He must make some kind of noise or disturbance because suddenly all eyes are on him, including hers. Albert looks away quickly towards the front of the room where his professor watches him with raised eyebrows.

“Are you alright, Mr…?” she trails off.

“DaSilva,” Albert replies. “Albert DaSilva.”

She nods and asks again, “Are you alright, Albert?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly. “Sorry.”

She looks skeptical and a murmur runs through the room but she quickly calls things back to order and resumes class.

When Albert finally chances another glance at the girl it’s to find her watching him. When she catches his eye an excited grins splits her face. Some instinct deep within him tells him that it’s safe to smile back at her, but it’s rooted in a version of himself that shouldn’t exist so he pushes it down and turns away.

He spends the remaining fifteen minutes of class trying desperately to pay attention to what his professor is saying and not think about anything else.

XxXx

He does his best to slip out after class but no such luck.

“Albert!” she calls after him, too near to escape.

Suddenly her hand is on his arm and he’s turning to face her.

“Albert?” she says his name again, a question this time, concern etched into her face.

It’s a face he knows and he can’t help saying the name that goes with it, “Katherine.”

She grins and throws her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe it!” she squeals. “For a second there I was worried it wasn’t you or that you didn’t remember or something.”

“Remember,” he replies, dazed. So, they are memories, then?

“Albert,” Katherine says, realizing something’s wrong and looking up at him with concern again. “Are you alright?”

“To be honest with you, Katherine,” he tells her. “I’m not really sure what going on.”

Something seems to occur to her at that moment and she bites her lip. “Am I the first one of us that you’ve met?” she asks.

Albert nods.

Katherine bites her lip again. “That sucks,” she breathes.

And suddenly Albert can’t help but crack up laughing. Katherine looks shocked for a second until she realizes what she said and laughs too.

“I didn’t mean that!” she says. “Frankly, you’re downright blessed to meet me first and don’t forget it. I just meant it sucks that you’ve been alone with this for, what? Like two years?”

“How’d you know that?” he asks.

“Sixteenth birthday, right?” she shrugs. “That’s when it seems to happen for all of us.”

“All of us?” Albert repeats.

Katherine just smiles and links her arms through his. “Let’s go get a coffee,” she suggests. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

XxXx

They don’t say much to each other on the walk across campus to the student centre. Katherine is texting, her fingers a flurry across the screen and Albert’s head is still spinning.

So, he’s not crazy then. Or maybe he’s crazier than he thought he was? Or maybe Katherine’s crazy, too?

He’s starting to think he might need something a little stronger than coffee.

They get their drinks and sit down just in time for Albert to be hauled back out of his seat by a pair of hands on his shoulders. His fist is balled, ready to strike, but instead he comes face-to-face with David Jacobs, of all people.

“Davey?!” he exclaims.

“Al!” Dave grins back.

And then Albert is being pulled into his second hug of the morning. It’s a bit jarring. He doesn’t usually see this much affection in a month, nevermind an hour.

“Okay,” Albert says when David releases him. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

“He really doesn’t know,” Dave remarks as they sit.

“He’s been alone,” Katherine replies.

“Well,” Davey begins, turning to Albert with a more serious look on his face. “We’ll answer whatever questions we can.”

Albert blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, “What is this?”

Katherine and David exchange a look.

“Best guess,” she replies. “We’ve been reincarnated.”

He stares at them both, dumbfounded. “Like, past lives kinda shit?”

Davey shrugs. “Got a better explanation?”

Albert doesn’t.

“You said ‘all of us’,” he says, turning to Katherine. “There are others? Who?”

He doesn’t say any names – doesn’t say one name in particular – but he still thinks something knowing flashes in her eyes. She’d always been more observant than the guys, just like a good reporter should be.

“We met Specs and Romeo when we came for a campus tour last spring,” she tells him. “They’re in class right now but they’ll be here as soon as they get out.”

“Yeah,” Albert replies. “I, uh, I think I almost ran into them earlier.”

“Almost?” Davey questions.

“I heard them,” Albert explains, a little embarrassed about the whole thing now. “But I was too freaked out to turn around.”

“You did look pretty freaked out when I chased you down after class,” Katherine adds. 

“You just have that effect on people,” Davey teases back. She swats at his arm with the back of her hand, feigning offense.

Albert feels himself start to smile, already feeling more at home with these two than he has anywhere else for years.

“When did you two meet, then?” he asks.

“We’ve known each other our whole lives,” Katherine answers.

“This lifetime, anyway,” David puts in. “We grew up down the street from each other.”

“So, you knew each other before you… _knew_ each other,” Albert says.

Katherine laughs and David nods. “I turned sixteen two months before she did. It was a weird two months.”

Now it's Albert’s turn to laugh. “I’ve been having a weird two years.”

“I’ll bet,” Davey replies. “You must’ve thought you were losing it.”

Albert shrugs. “On good days.”

“I can’t imagine,” Katherine shakes her head.

She and Davey exchange another look and there’s something in this one that Albert thinks Jack Kelly would be jealous about. Katherine isn’t the only one who can be observant.

“So, Specs and Romeo,” he says, deciding not to delve any deeper into David and Katherine’s history. “What about the other boys? Met anyone else?”

“No,” Davey shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Not yet,” Albert repeats. “But they are out there?”

“We have no way of knowing for sure,” Katherine replies.

“But if we are I don’t know why they wouldn’t be,” Davey cuts in, optimistic. “I’d be willing to put money on it.”

Albert’s mind wanders to the one of their friends who would be most likely to take that action and hopes desperately that Davey is right.

XxXx

Romeo and Specs join them not long after that and the five of them decide to ditch the rest of their classes and spend the afternoon catching up.

Albert sees them every day for the next week or so. And there’s others, too. Campus seems to be crawling with former Newsies. They share classes. They run into each other in the cafeteria and student centre. Hell, Albert meets Tommy at a urinal in the campus pub.

A week and a half into the semester and they’re almost all back together.

Almost.

There’s still no sign of Jack or Crutchie.

Or Racetrack, the person Albert’s really been waiting for.

He still doesn’t have a roommate, either. He’s seriously wondering if the guy is ever going to bother showing up.

XxXx

Albert is sitting on one of the couches on the second floor of the student centre finishing up the reading for his next class when he gets hit in the side of the head with an elastic band. He looks up to see Finch and Elmer approaching.

“Got you a present,” Elmer says, tossing a stack of comic books into his lap. “Happy Wednesday.”

“You’re a saint,” Albert replies, setting aside his now forgotten text book and sifting through the titles. “What do I owe you?”

Elmer just waves him off. He and Finch have taken seats on the couch as well and Elmer is flipping through his own comics.

Albert usually isn’t a fan of charity – doesn’t like the idea of anyone pitying him – but he knows that’s not what this is. The boys are used to looking out for each other and Albert’s sure he’ll get the chance to hit him back for it before too long.

“Got a roommate yet?” Finch asks. He’s got the elastic back in his hands and he’s eyeing a fly that’s been buzzing around Albert for the past twenty minutes.

“Not as of this morning,” Albert answers without looking up. Finch is sitting on the arm of the couch, feet on the cushion next to Albert. “Why? Date night again?”

Finch groans. “They go at it like rabbits, I swear.”

Finch also lives on campus and, unlike Albert, his roommate had arrived on time. So had his roommate’s girlfriend. Finch had needed a place to crash about half a dozen times in the past two weeks and the empty bed in Albert’s room had come in handy.

“You mind?” Finch asks – a formality, they all know.

“Long as you don’t snore,” Albert replies.

“Looks like you’re back to sleeping on the street,” Elmer quips.

Finch gives up his hunt for the fly and takes aim at Elmer instead.

XxXx

When Albert gets back to his residence later that afternoon he runs into his RA on her way to class.

“Albert! I’m glad I caught you,” she says when she sees him. “Your roommate’s here.”

“He is?” Albert replies, a little disappointed. He’d been getting used to having someplace all his own.

She hums and considers him for a moment. “I don’t think I have to tell you not to be a dick,” she says.

He furrows his brows. “What?”

“Although,” she goes on like she hasn’t heard him. “Given that nickname his buddies have for him, I don’t know how much he’d mind.”

Albert just stares blankly at her. 

She waves a hand. “You’ll see. I’ve gotta go.”

And with that she’s gone. Albert shrugs and heads for the elevator. On his way up he shoots a text to Finch letting him know he’ll need to find somewhere else to sleep.

The door to his dorm is ajar and he pushes it open to find a guy leaning over Albert’s desk, looking through last week’s comic books.

Albert feels his breath catch. The guy has his back turned, but Albert would recognize him anywhere.

“Hey, Crutch,” the guy laughs, holding up one of the comics without turning. “I think your roomie’s a nerd.”

“Race?” Albert breathes.

He whips around at the sound of Albert’s voice and there he is: Racetrack Higgins, in the flesh.

Race beams and throws his arms out wide. “Albie!” he exclaims.

Two long strides closes the gap between them and then they’re hugging. After a moment Race pulls away but keeps his hands on Albert’s shoulders. 

“Is this your room?” Race asks, gesturing back at Albert’s desk. “Are you the nerd?!”

“I… yeah?” Albert stammers, still a little shocked. “Wait, are you my roommate?”

“Not me,” Race laughs. He uses his grip on Albert’s shoulders to spin him around just as Albert notices a pair of voices approaching.

“Hey, Crutchie!” Race calls, draping an arm over Albert’s shoulders. “Come meet your new roommate!”

And a second later, Crutchie, seated in a wheelchair, comes rolling into the room, Jack Kelly close behind him.

Albert is pulled into more hugs but somehow at the end of it still finds Race’s arm across his shoulders. He’s not complaining.

“It’s about time you boys showed up,” Albert grins. “We’ve all been wondering if you were ever going to.”

“All?” Jack asks.

“ _All_ ,” Albert emphasizes.

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket as Jack demands, “Names, Al, c’mon! Like who?”

“Like…” Albert says, knowing what names Jack wants to hear but reading the one on his phone screen instead. “Finch.”

“Finch?” Jack deadpans.

Albert laughs. “And Katherine. And Davey. And Specs and Elmer and Mush and everyone.”

 _your roomie’s there?_ Albert reads Finch’s message. _what’s he like?_

 _familiar_ , Albert sends back.

XxXx

They go to the campus pub to meet the rest of the guys. They drink and talk and laugh for hours. After a while Jack, Davey, and Katherine leave together, but not before Jack has a quick word to Albert and Race about making sure Crutchie gets home alright.

Race sticks close by Albert all night. Albert doesn’t mind.

XxXx

Later, when he and Crutchie are alone in their dorm room, Albert sits up in his bed, feet pulled up, elbows resting on knees. He’s feeling too wired to sleep.

Crutchie is laying in his own bed, staring up at the ceiling. He turns to Albert with a smile.

“I can’t believe you’re all here,” he says, voice quiet.

“I know,” Albert replies at the same volume. It’s dark and still in their room and speaking any louder seems wrong. “Two weeks ago I thought I was nuts.”

“I think the jury might still be out on that,” Crutchie jokes.

“Says the guy who still lets us call him ‘Crutchie’ in the year 2017,” Albert fires back.

Crutchie laughs. “What else would you call me? My name?” he scoffs.

“Can’t imagine that,” Albert grins. “Wheels?”

Crutchie laughs again, harder this time, and Albert finds himself laughing too.

“I missed you guys,” Crutchie says once he’s caught his breath.

“Yeah,” Albert nods. He knows the feeling.

They’re silent for a moment and then Crutchie says, “He missed you, y’know.”

“Who?” Albert asks, though he has an idea.

Crutchie rolls his eyes. “Like you don’t know,” he replies and turns back to the ceiling, closing his eyes. “Night, Al.”

“Night, Crutchie,” Albert replies.

He sits quietly in the dark for a few minutes, mulling over what Crutchie said. Before he can make up his mind about what it means, the screen on his phone lights up with a text message.

_albo you up?_

It’s from Race.

 _yea. can’t sleep_ , Albert sends back.

 _same_ , Race replies. And then a moment later, _wanna come over?_

XxXx

Albert DaSilva has been in love with Racetrack Higgins for as long as he’s known him.

When they’d been poor orphans growing up on the streets and selling papers for pennies a day they’d relied on each other. All the boys had, it’s true, but with Race it was different. He was the one person Albert always knew he could count on.

And Albert loved him. Sometimes, he even thought Race might love him back.

Which had been a pretty big fucking problem at the turn of the 20th century.

It had made him an angry kid and a bitter teenager. He’d distanced himself from Race as they got older. It had killed him to do it but it had been for both their sakes.

The boys had all gotten a couple good years together after the strike but the truth was that with Jack drawing for the paper instead of selling it and Davey eventually going back to school and the rest growing up, it was never going to last forever.

And by the time they were both too old to keep selling newspapers, Albert and Race were almost strangers.

Eventually Albert’s temper got the better of him when a drunken brawl went south and he ended up with a knife in his gut. As he’d bled out he thought of friendship and triumph and Racetrack Higgins.

He was 22.

XxXx

Albert arrives at the address Race gave him – an apartment building where he lives with Jack – and gets buzzed in. He heads up the stairs and finds their apartment, door open and waiting for him.

“Race?” he calls, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

“In here,” Race’s voice answers.

Albert turns a corner to find Race sitting on the couch in the living room, leaning over the coffee table rolling a joint. A finished but unlit one sits between his lips.

“Now there’s a familiar sight,” Albert says.

Race grins. “I’ve been told I have an oral fixation.”

Albert tries not to dwell on that thought, instead lacing as much Newsie accent into his voice as he can and saying, “Who’da thunk?”

Race laughs and changes the subject to something safer. “You do partake?” he asks, gesturing to the joint dangling from his lips.

Albert nods and Race finishes the second joint with deft fingers. For a second it seems like he’s going to hand it to Albert but ends up tucking it behind his own ear.

They slip out the window onto the fire escape and Race produces a lighter to spark the first joint.

They sit facing each other, each with his back against a railing, legs tangled casually in each other because there isn’t enough room for them not to be. 

Race takes a long drag and passes the joint to Albert who is very aware that his lips are occupying the same space that Race’s had just a moment before.

Blue smoke drifts between them and Albert leans forward to pass it back, asking, “Jack not home?”

“Nah,” Race replies, inhaling. “Haven’t seen him since he left the pub.”

“With Davey and Katherine?” Albert muses. 

Race’s only response is a shit-eating grin and suggestively raised eyebrows.

“He’s really relieved Crutchie’s roommate turned out to be you,” Race tells him after a moment.

“Jack?” Albert asks, letting out a puff of smoke.

They’re getting down to the roach and Albert takes the liberty of finishing it off. Race pulls the second one from behind his ear and lights it.

“He’s really protective of him,” Race explains.

Albert shrugs. “Always was.”

Race hums around the joint before passing it to Albert. “It’s different now,” he goes on.

“How so?” Albert asks, passing it back. He’s starting to feel the effects, leaning back heavily against the rail.

“When I met them in ninth grade,” Race says. “Crutchie was already in the chair. But Jack knew him before. Jack was with him when it happened.”

“What happened?” Albert questions.

“Just a dumb accident when they were about ten,” Race says. “Climbing trees and Crutchie fell. Messed up his back.”

“Damn,” Albert breathes, taking the joint back. It’s getting low again and their fingers brush as they pass it. He feels the back of his neck heat up and pulls the bill of his hat low behind his head, hoping Race won’t notice.

Race swallows – Albert watches his Adam’s apple bob – and says, “I was relieved to find out you were Crutchie’s roommate, too.”

Albert meets his gaze and finds blue eyes staring intensely back at him from under a fringe of blond curls.

“Worried about him, too?” Albert asks.

Race shakes his head, expression unchanged. “Nah.”

Albert can hear his heart pounding in his ears. Their fingers brush again as they pass the joint.

“What happened to you back then?” Race asks after a moment.

Albert sighs and removes his hat to run a hand through his hair. Race’s eyes follow the motion.

“Nothing good,” he replies.

There’s something sad in Race’s eyes when he says, “What happened to _us_?”

Albert takes a deep breath, hesitating. This is the closest he and Race have ever come to acknowledging whatever this is between them. Finally, he says, “You know what.”

He holds the roach out to Race again, enough left for one last hit, but instead Race knocks it out his hand to fall through the grating beneath them and grabs Albert’s wrist. He hauls him forward, crushing their lips together.

Albert doesn’t hesitate now, grabbing a fistful of Race’s shirt as he knocks the hat off Albert’s head and tangles a hand in his hair.

He could happily stay in that moment forever but eventually they have to pull away from each other. They don’t go far, leaning close together, sharing breaths. The hand in Albert’s hair slides down to the side of his neck, Race’s thumb brushing his pulse point.

“I wanted to do that for a long time,” Race tells him.

“So did I,” Albert replies.

Race grins. “Can you believe it, Albie?” he says. “Can you believe we got a second chance?”

Albert laughs. “Did we ever get a first chance?”

Between the weed and the kiss, his head is spinning in the best possible way.

“Well, whatever this is,” Race replies, smiling. “I’m glad we got it.”

“Me too,” Albert says, and kisses him again.


End file.
